


Awakenings

by magistrainartis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Reunions, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 07:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14491395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magistrainartis/pseuds/magistrainartis
Summary: The King woke three times.





	Awakenings

The King woke three times.

He was first roused from pure, peaceful sleep by arms thrown around his neck. A young man, younger than the last time they’d been together on Eos, whose summer eyes streamed tears of joy and whose smile made the sylleblossoms bloom. A man with a stream of words so excited they were barely comprehensible. A man bowing not to the King, but to the Queen, who woke smiling to a long-awaited meeting. A man who yelped when a white dog bounded to lick his face, and who rolled down the throne’s stairs unhurt as he and the animal wrestled in fun. A man for whom the King threw off ten Crystal-encased years as he raced down the stairs to greet his friend. Who showed the King hundreds, thousands, of photographs: shots of four young men with a black convertible, shots of three Glaives and their King in a ruined city, shots of three men with laugh lines and silvering hair carrying children on their shoulders, shots of three men with wrinkled faces and straight backs, smiling in the dawn. Shots of picnics and weddings, of graduations and grandchildren, of new lives under the sun.

The King returned to his throne and slept. The man slept, too, resting at the King’s feet.

*

The King was roused a second time by the sound of clanging shields and a far-off horn heralding a hero’s return. A man entered the throne room, head bowed. A Shield who stood while his King fell, strong frame bowed with years of wondering “if.” A man whose arm the King grasped in friendship, who knelt and was raised to his feet again, welcomed as a long-lost brother. A man whose relief echoed in teasing jibes about the poor Queen’s sleeping position, and rang through the throne room with their laughter. Who challenged the king to a sparring match and was answered by a grin and a black dog’s excited howls. Who told stories of battles fought, creatures hunted, and pacts forged. Who spoke of a dragoon’s spear shining in the light, of a people forging civilization from ruin, of a flower made of steel.

The King returned to his throne and slept. The man slept, too, resting at the King’s right shoulder.

*

The King was roused a third time by the scent of fresh-roasted coffee and a hand on his shoulder. A man stood above him, pride in his smile and green eyes shining. A man the King grabbed in an embrace not for a friend, but for a brother returning home. A man whose wry comments on the state of this realm’s kitchens made the dawn’s light dance through the windows as the aromas of fresh seafood, spiced sauces, and buttered pastries mingled in the air. A man who graciously bowed to the Queen before advising the King of a city rebuilt, a government raised by former enemies, a border unmade. A man whose gaze was as targeted as his questions concerning the King’s current abilities, position, and strategy. A man who stood before this King as he had before the last, his vision clear as he looked forward, always, never looking back. 

The King returned to his throne and slept. The man slept, too, resting at the King’s left hand.

*

The King would wake in ages to come, summoned by Warriors of Light in need of aid from on high. Roused to action at a table seating thirteen, faces no longer of his lineage, but of those who served his people in life and who now served from the seat of dawn.

But for now, surrounded by his brothers at last, the King slept.


End file.
